I enjoyed writing the scenario in Forget Me Not and it got me thinking in a whole different direction. The two stories are not connected, but do use the same idea. Kind of.
As always, I love reader interaction and am happy to hear your thoughts and ideas. I may take the mickey out of them, but you all know that already.
Lost
Treville sat at his desk and tried to complete the missive he had begun some time earlier. Since it was a legal document, he could not afford it to have any mistakes and he had been forced to restart it three times. Each time, his quill had stalled too long as his hand had hesitated and inkblots had dripped where they should not be. Finally he screwed up the piece of parchment and stowed the quill in its holder. It was clear his mind would not allow him to relax until he had word. It wasn't that he doubted his men's ability to complete their task, but he knew how much was riding on it. With a sigh, he pushed himself away from his desk and headed for the door. Nothing further was going to get done and he needed something to distract him. Or actually, something to focus on. He was already distracted enough. As he leaned over the railing of the balcony, he evaluated the recruit training below him. A flash of dark hair had him smiling as he watched a sword swing too wide. The musketeer made quick work of knocking his target to his knees and the dark hair dropped in defeat at his own stupidity. It seemed only yesterday that another dark-haired recruit had regularly made the same mistake and another musketeer had made him pay for it each and every time.
Treville closed his eyes briefly and wondered again where the two of them were. At least one of the teams should have been back already.
Aramis tugged at his hat as he turned his horse towards the garrison. It felt strange on his head since it was not his usual one. He looked across at Porthos and frowned. The ride to the palace had taken their full concentration as they escorted their charge, while scanning every alleyway and possible point of attack. The fact they had arrived without incident did not have either of them celebrating. It meant that their ruse had quite possibly failed and their friends were still in danger.
Athos felt the hair on the back of his neck prickling and he absently pulled at his collar. It was nothing new; rather he had been on high alert since they left the tavern and began their trek for the palace. He had naturally taken point, with their charge sandwiched in between him and d'Artagnan. The man had barely spoken to them as they had ridden through the streets and he had been grateful for that. He did not need the distraction. Their meandering path had taken in several stops along the way and each time both men had taken the opportunity to check if they were being followed. All seemed well so far, but Athos had learned from bitter experience, not to get complacent.
Treville had sent out three teams to act as decoys with a fourth escorting the actual nobleman. None of them except Treville knew which one was the real one. Not that it made any difference to any of them as the assignment was still the same. Get the man assigned to them to the palace in one piece. It was a matter of honour that each team would do their job as expected, regardless of the true value of their escort.
D'Artagnan took one last look over his shoulder as they climbed up onto their horses and set off again. The man riding between him and Athos had only given them the name of Thierry, but he had no idea if it was his real name or simply a label to be used for the day. He could have been a nobleman or he could have been a servant of said nobleman. Whatever the case, the man's safe delivery to the palace was their priority. Treville had made it crystal clear that vital information was being conveyed and it was too risky to be written down.
He looked ahead to where Athos was leading the way and noted how strange it looked to see the man out of uniform. D'Artagnan had only ever known him as a musketeer and rarely saw him without his pauldron firmly attached to his shoulder or within easy reach. He glanced down at his own arm and felt naked without the piece of leather he had strived so hard to obtain. The fact it was safely stored in Treville's office did not ease the strange feeling. It was odd how quickly it had become a part of who he was.
Aramis and Porthos rode into the garrison and began immediately scouting the yard for their friends. Porthos noted Treville first and nodded towards the Captain. It was clear that the man was waiting for them on his balcony and that could only mean one thing. They were the first team to return. As the two of them headed towards the stables, they saw Treville heading down the stairs towards them, worry clearly etched on his face.
Athos slowed but did not stop as they approached the bridge. He quickly assessed it and frowned. It was narrow and would require them all to dismount in order to get across without making them all sitting targets. The end of the bridge curved into an alleyway and was a clear point for an ambush. They had passed many such vulnerable places in their trek across the city and his senses had amped up a notch at each one of them. Danger lurked in every shadow and it was exhausting trying to anticipate what may come at them. He looked over his shoulder and was pleased to see d'Artagnan was also observing keenly.
He eventually pulled his horse to a stop and slid down onto the roadway. Thierry followed suit as d'Artagnan also began to dismount. Athos herded the man closer to his horse and nodded towards the bridge.
"Keep your eyes open and your wits about you."
Thierry followed Athos' example and grasped his horse's reins tightly and pulled in close to the animal's body as they stepped out onto the bridge. The early spring rains had brought on the snow melt and the swollen waterway beneath the bridge surged loudly as extra water flowed through the small space.
Athos was almost across the bridge when trouble found them. He heard it before he saw anything. Two musket shots rang out and he reacted on instinct. He turned to see Thierry leaning into his horse while wildly looking around for the source of the shots. The target could not see his attackers, but Athos had already determined the trajectory had come from above them.
He shouted to d'Artagnan, "Roof!"
D'Artagnan pushed forward to shield their charge and heard another musket shot ring out. He looked up just in time to feel something whistle past his ear, followed by a thunk against his saddle. A momentary flare of adrenaline had him pushing Thierry towards Athos before his feet seemed to tangle around themselves. He felt something warm trickle down his face and absently brushed at it. He was stunned to see his fingers come away covered in blood.
Athos looked back just in time to see d'Artagnan stumble into his horse. Given the lad's usual agility, he was momentarily surprised. Until he saw the blood. Years of conditioning took over and he pushed the emotion down to do what needed to be done. He reached for Thierry's arm and pulled him forward. Duty dictated this man was his priority, but that didn't mean he couldn't help his friend too.
"D'Artagnan!"
The sound of his name being called jolted him out of his stupor and d'Artagnan raised his head. He saw Athos lunging towards Thierry and knew they still needed to get the man to safety. Whoever had attacked them was not simply going to let them pass.
"Behind you!"
D'Artagnan reacted without having to think as Athos called out his warning. By the time he swung around he had his sword in his hand and was brandishing it towards the man advancing on him. His usual confident steps seemed to have deserted him and he felt himself stumble forward. The stranger in front of him laughed and he barely had time to wonder why before the man was upon him.
Thierry felt himself being pushed against his horse as Athos squeezed around him. The narrow bridge had become a deathtrap and he felt his concern rising. Treville had promised him protection and had formulated a plan to try to throw his enemies off his trail. Apparently they had failed.
Athos pushed the man forwards and looked up to see if the sharpshooter was still situated there as he had stopped firing at them. Either he had used all his ammunition or he was looking to reload muskets. Either way, they still needed to get past the men advancing on them on the ground. He kept a wary eye on Thierry while trying to see what d'Artagnan was doing. He had not heard any swordplay and as he pushed past Thierry's horse, he could see why.
D'Artagnan was slumped against the railing of the bridge. Blood flowed freely down the side of his face and he looked disorientated. He had his sword raised in defense, but it was so sloppy that Athos would have roared at him in the practice yard. Athos surged towards him as one of their attackers closed on the boy. D'Artagnan's horse blocked his path as it shuffled in the enclosed space and he nudged furiously at the animal.
"D'Artagnan!"
Athos finally got past the horse and raced forward, his sword drawn.
D'Artagnan flinched as a wild looking man charged towards him, sword aimed at his chest. A second man was barely a foot away from him when he felt hands on his shoulders. He looked up to see laughter on the face on the man who grasped at him. His mind was slow to register what was coming as he felt himself being shoved backwards. By the time he hit the icy water below, his mind had only just caught up. Somebody was trying to kill him.
Athos swung his sword wildly at the man, but was too slow to stop him. The tip of his blade slid into the man's side, but not before he had pushed d'Artagnan backwards off the bridge.
"Nooooo!"
He withdrew his sword and slammed the man to the ground, while barely registering as the gurgling sound stopped. As he leaned over the railing, he desperately scanned the water below. It surged wildly along its course and he very nearly climbed over the railing to jump in himself. Suddenly he remembered that their charge was still in danger and he still had a duty to fulfill.
He looked up to the rooftop and caught a glimpse of a musket. Their sharpshooter was still there and taking aim once more. As his heart went one way, his body went another. He moved with years of training and dragged Thierry onto his horse before climbing onto his own.
He didn't notice as d'Artagnan's horse followed the two of them off the bridge.
He didn't notice as his emotions shut down and duty took over.
The only thing he noticed was the sound of shots echoing off the walls as they escaped down the alleyway.